


In over his head

by Mirani



Category: Bleach, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Genre: Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Ichigo gets adopted by a mafioso, Mentor!Chuuya, Overprotective Chuuya, Where is this going?, do not copy to another site, giftfic, i have no clue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22000402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirani/pseuds/Mirani
Summary: Ichigo’s doing some grunt work for one of the local gangs in Karakura and gets in over his head. Luckily, there’s someone willing to help him out.
Relationships: Nakahara Chuuya and Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 15
Kudos: 169





	In over his head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tia_dreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tia_dreamer/gifts).



> Greetings everyone! 
> 
> This is a fic I wrote for a friend based on a few discussions we had a while ago which grew arms, legs and ran away from me in spectacular fashion. I hope you enjoy reading!

Ichigo turned from the alleyway, stepping from cool shadow into warm sunset. The groans and muffled cursing of the gang members he’d just dispatched followed him and he fought the urge to either smirk at how easy that particular errand had been, or scowl for the same reason. 

He’d been approached by one of the larger gangs in the area, asking him to ‘deal’ with a few upstarts that were attempting to muscle in on their territory. Ichigo had made a bit of a name for himself over the last few years, getting shit done quickly and quietly. In exchange, the groups he was in contact with generally steered away from his street (bargained protection for his sisters, Goatface could handle himself), and a decent amount of cash-in-hand which he either put towards bills or hid away in his own little personal fund he had hidden away from prying eyes. 

Thanks to this sort of work, he’d been able to slip quite a bit into his savings and, if he had it his way and this continued, he’d be able to move out as soon as he graduated. If he waited a bit longer, saved just a little more, he might even be able to get a place with a spare bedroom or something so Karin and Yuzu could visit (or, hell, live with him if they wanted to get away from Goatface enough). He was only fourteen though so he had a bit to go before he could seriously start considering that. Plus, if he had to contribute much more to the bills, he’d not have much to be putting away anyway. His dad might say he ran the clinic but, recently, it felt like he was spending more and more time doing absolutely fucking nothing. Granted, it was better than when they were younger, when Misaki was gone and Isshin just didn’t work for months. That time had been...difficult to say the least. 

Shaking himself out of those morbid thoughts, Ichigo turned right and began making his way home. The sun was getting low in the sky, casting long, dark shadows and he wanted to get home before it was completely dark or Yuzu would worry. She’d been doing that more and more often recently, worrying. She knew that Ichigo could take care of himself but that didn’t stop her scolding him when he stepped inside the house, always with a cheerful expression but Ichigo could tell how scared she was for him. 

His sisters weren't stupid. They knew he was doing something to bring in extra money but, being the smart girls they were, they deliberately didn’t ask. If they didn’t know, they couldn’t tell anyone which could only be a good thing in Ichigo’s mind. 

He’d been given half the money before dealing with the new gang members and, now that they were taken care of, he could go back to where his contact was, pick up what he was owed and head home. All in all, it shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes in total since the meet-up point was about mid-way between his current location and the house.

It was as he was making his way towards the agreed meet-up point, maybe about four streets away, that the hairs on the back of his neck started prickling uncomfortably. They’d been doing it for a while but he’d been doing his best to ignore it. There were a few more ghosts in the area than was usual so he’d been trying to convince himself that it was just that which was setting his nerves off. Now that whoever (or whatever) it was was getting closer, Ichigo’s damn instincts were kicking in and telling him to pay the fuck attention. 

It was as he was about to turn the next corner, a left, that he reacted on pure instinct. He turned the corner, ducked and kicked out with his right leg, bringing it up high and putting a decent amount of force behind it. The person, apparently not caught off guard by Ichigo’s preemptive action, flipped back out of the way, effectively putting distance between them. Ichigo made to bring his leg down but, before he could, the figure darted forwards and kicked out, going for his stationary leg. Ichigo didn’t have enough time to react but, even as he was falling, he was moving. Twisting to land in a crouch, he sprang towards his attacker, using his momentum to push himself up again and struck out with his fists this time. He didn’t want to give the other the chance to unbalance him again. Whoever they were, they were clearly very quick and ichigo didn’t want to give them another opening like that. 

Unbelievably, even as Ichigo’s fist flew forwards, plenty of force behind it, the person raised their hand and fucking  _ caught it _ . Ichigo felt a jolt go through his arm and he fought the urge to pull his hand back instinctively and cradle it against his chest. Fuck, it felt like he’d just hit a tonne of fucking bricks. What the hell?

He tried to take a step back but, fast as lightning, the figure was twisting, grabbing his wrist and fucking  _ flipping him  _ onto the ground like he weighed nothing at all. As he was tumbling through the air, Ichigo swore that, for a second, he didn’t weigh anything at all in truth. 

He landed hard on the ground with an “oof” and a growl building in his throat. Oh there was no way he was going to let this asshole get the better of him. It had to be one of the ‘friends’ of the guys he’d beat up not long ago. He’d thought that had been too easy. Looked like he’d managed to fucking jinx himself. 

He made to push himself up, not wanting to give the asshole the satisfaction of just _ lying there _ when there was suddenly a foot pressing against his chest. 

Reacting on pure instinct, Ichigo froze like cornered pray. He felt his muscles lock up and he knew that, even if he’d wanted to,he couldn’t move. It was as he was processing this, his brain attempting to come up with some way that he could escape, that he got a good look at the person who’d handed him his ass so thoroughly in less than thirty seconds. 

The first thing he noticed was that they were pretty damn short. He’d noticed that when they were fighting of course but he wasn’t entirely new to that. He was pretty tall for a fourteen, nearly fifteen-year-old but, studying them, he was pretty sure this person was an adult and they were just short in general. 

Next, he noticed that the clothes they were wearing were pretty fucking fancy for Karakura Town and even more so when he considered that they’d leapt headfirst (footfirst?) into a fist fight with no hesitation. Tailored trousers, waistcoat, white shirt, jacket, weird as fuck tie and Hat...and was that a fucking choker? Ichigo was no expert but he was pretty sure that outfit cost more than his father brought in in a month, maybe two.

Next was the hair. It was uneven, longer on one side than the other and, if Ichigo wasn’t mistaken, it was almost as bright as his own. He wondered if anyone ever questioned whether this person was a delinquent just because of the colour of his fucking hair. Guessing by the obvious money he had, probably not. 

It was as he was studying the person’s features that his gaze was caught by a pair of bright, bright blue eyes. 

“So, you’re the one they’ve been raving about over here for the last few months; not bad for a kid.” 

The voice was deeper than Ichigo had been expecting. Granted he wasn’t entirely sure  _ what  _ he was expecting but whatever, that wasn’t the point. The  _ point _ was that this short fucker was pinning him to the pavement with one foot and Ichigo was  _ not _ going to put up with being called “kid” by the guy who’d put him there. 

“I’m  _ not _ a kid,” he spit out, glaring up at the other. The guy rolled his eyes and Ichigo only glared harder. Asshole. 

“Oh yeah? What else would you call a fourteen-year-old getting way in over his head?” 

...fuck. 

That one statement told Ichigo all he needed to know. First, the guy knew about him (which, granted, he knew already) but this guy had a specific detail which meant he probably had more. That meant that, given Ichigo’s typical luck, the guy probably knew about his sisters, where he went to school, the location of the clinic…

Attempting not to give away how uneasy he suddenly was, Ichigo maintained eye contact and let out a small, derisive huff. 

“I can handle myself just fine, thanks.” 

The figure pinning him to the pavement raised an eyebrow, dug the heel of his foot into Ichigo’s chest, smirk turning up the corner of his lips just that little bit further. Ichigo glared in response. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what the jackass was thinking. 

“Though, I have to admit, your reflexes aren’t too bad,” the asshole continued. “If I’d been anyone else, you might’ve actually managed to get the drop on me.” 

Ichigo was well aware of that. How did this asshole think he’d taken down those pushovers earlier? 

“What do you want?” Ichigo demanded.. 

“That depends,” Thankfully, the guy apparently decided that he’d had enough of keeping Ichigo pinned and moved his foot, stepping back to allow Ichigo to scramble to his feet. Ichigo, for his part, did so quickly and took a few steps back from the other, deciding that he wanted enough distance between them that, should the other decide to attack, he’d have at least a little more time to react. He’d learned that this guy was fast so better safe then sorry. Even half a second more could mean the difference between landing a punch or getting pinned again. 

“Now, here’s the thing,” the guy continued, leaning against the nearest building and looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. “”Normally this is a bit below my pay grade  _ but _ , when I heard what was going on, I had to check it out for myself.” 

“Check what out, exactly?” Ichigo demanded, refusing to let his guard down with this guy, no matter the stance. He had a pretty good idea what he was referring to. 

“Heard about this kid who’s been drafted by some of our local contacts when they’ve got some trouble brewing and can’t be assed to take care of it themselves - rather pathetic really.” 

Ichigo couldn’t help but agree. Really, when you thought about it, how fucking pathetic was it that a fucking gang needed a fucking teenager to sort out their fist fights or them? Still, he said nothing, not wanting to let the other know that he’d scored some kind of point in whatever game this was. 

“That doesn’t tell me what you want,” Ichigo pointed out, getting impatient. 

The guy shrugged. “Mainly a chance to see what you were capable of, why you were getting mixed up in this mess and if you were worth what I hear you’re getting paid.” 

Ichigo’s hackles were rising further and further as the guy spoke. It was pretty damn obvious that this guy was pretty fucking high up the chain of command or whatever system the gangs in the area had. When he’d said ‘local contacts’, Ichigo got the feeling that it wasn’t just the gangs he’d been dealing with either. Whatever this guy was a part of - it was big and Ichigo was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. What was it the guy had said earlier about him getting in over his head? Not that he was going to show it of course. 

“And?” Ichigo demanded. “Get the answers to your questions?” 

The guy smirked and Ichigo glared harder. 

“More or less. For someone your age, you’re doing pretty damn good for yourself. A few more years, a bit more experience, no one’s walking away from a fight with you without a serious advantage hidden up their sleeve.” The guy smirked and Ichigo just  _ knew  _ there was something he was missing. Probably this mysterious ‘advantage’ he was speaking about. He’d had a certain stress on the word that Ichigo had picked up on immediately. His curiosity was piqued but now really wasn’t the time.

“So I’ve got the answers to questions one and three but not two - why the hell are you getting yourself mixed up in this shit?” 

The somewhat playful mask the guy was wearing had fallen away from his features, leaving his face stern, his blue eyes fixing on Ichigo’s own brown ones in an unblinking stare. 

‘What’s it to you?” 

“Curiosity mainly,” he admitted. “You’re interesting.” 

“I’m really not,” Ichigo countered, bristling slightly. 

“Oh you definitely are,. I haven’t seen anyone as competent as you in a  _ long  _ time. You’re good kid, really good and, if you’re not careful, someone’s going to take notice.” 

“You mean like you did?” Ichigo deadpanned, getting a shrug in reply. 

“Like me,” he continued. “See, the thing is, that’s not always a good thing. Those guys you beat up earlier today? They’re linked with a larger organisation from central Tokyo. They were pretty pathetic but, and here’s the important thing, they’re the grunts. This wasn’t just some small gang trying to muscle in on this little corner of Karakura.- they’re far bigger than that.” 

Ichigo felt himself stiffen even further. That was definitely  _ not  _ what he’d been told when he’d agreed to take care of shit for his regular contacts. He’d made it clear when he’d started doing this - he’d take care of the smaller shit, the local thugs who were getting too uppity but he wanted  _ nothing  _ to do with the larger shit. Slowly, he fel this trepidation turn to anger. 

_ Those bastards… _

It wans’t just himself that this had potentially put in danger - he could handle that. It was the fact that, if those assholes really were from another organisation, a big one, then they’d have the resources to track him down and, knowing some of the  _ friendlier  _ groups he’d heard of, he’d be lucky if it was just him they’d target. 

“I see you didn’t actually know that...damn it.” The figure raised a hand to his head tucking a stray strand of hair behind an ear and grimacing in distaste. “Look, I’m not going to bullshit you here kid-“ Ichigo wanted to protest being called kid  _ again _ but this felt pretty fucking important so he held his tongue “-if your’e not careful, you’re going to be in really deep shit soon. We’ve got a pretty good hold on this area, all things considered, so you’ll probably be fine but what about the next time?” 

Ichigo remained silent, brain going through a thousand and one possibilities, each more unpleasant than the last. 

“So what’s the point in you telling me all this?’ 

“You still haven’t answered my question, - why the hell did you get yourself mixed up in this mess in the first place/ You’re not a part of any of the local gangs - I checked - you’re still in fucking hi school for fucks sake.” Here the guy seemed almost angry and Ichigo had no fucking idea why. “My point is, you shouldn't be involved and I want to know why.” 

“And if I don’t tell you?” 

“Then I can’t fucking help now, can i?” The guy demanded and Ichigo was brought up short. 

Help? 

“And why the hell do you want to help me?” He demanded, eyes narrowing on the short red-head. “What do you get out of this?’ 

“Believe it or not, i’VE been in a similar position. It fucking sucks,” the guy said, tone Bblunt. “Trust me when I say this - you can’t just stay on the edge of this shit. Somehow, some way, it’ll drag you in, kicking and screaming whether you like it or not.” There was something that flashed through those blue eyes then, something which Ichigo knew,just knew, was related to how this particular individual had ended up working for whatever organisation it was that controlled the gangs around here.He didn’thave to be a mind reader to know that, however it had happened,it’d been bad. Still, the guy seemed to have come out of it alrightwith the way he was talking.

“So, I’ll ask you one more time,” the guy continued, straightening from his leaning position. “Why are you doing this?” 

Ichigo debated keeping silent but, really, what was the point? The guy clearly knew about him already, had his information so telling him about the existence of his sisters, of his fucking life, wouldn’t really be that far of a stretch would it? There was also that expression that had flashed through the guys eyes when he’d mentioned being dragged into shit. Ichigo trusted his instincts and, for now, his instincts were telling him to give this guy a chance. What the guy did with said chance...well that was another thing entirely now, wasn’t it? 

“My dad’s a piece of shit,” he began, deciding to keep shit simple and to the point. “He brings in enough to support my sisters and get shit done but barely.” 

“You do realise they have part-time jobs for that sort of thing.” He didn’t sound conidescending, just stating a fact. Ichigo couldn’t help but snort though. 

‘When everyone thinks you’re already a delinquint just because...who fucking knows, the reason’s different each week. Not a chance.” 

“Anything else?” The guy pressed and Ichigo decided, fuck it, why not? 

“I’m getting out of there as soon as I can,” he continued and watched the guys eyes narrow slightly although he couldn’t make out the expression in them just yet. “What I’m not giving them, I’m keeping so I can get a place as soon as I graduate - hopefully far enough away from here that I won’t have to see Goat Face on a regular basis.” 

“And your sisters?” 

Ichigo tried to keep his face neutral. “Able to come stay with me whenever they fucking want.” 

The guy nodded to himself, like he was satisfied with Ichigo’s actions or some shit. 

“Alright kid, here’s the deal.” 

“Would you stop calling me kid!” Ichigo growled. “If I’m old enough for you to make some kind of ‘deal’ with me, I’m old enough for you to stop calling me a damn kid!” 

The guy blinked before nodding his head in understanding. 

“Fair enough. Gotta have a name to call you though.” 

“Don’t you already know it?” Ichigo huffed, annoyed but when the guy didn’t continue, he sighed. “Kurosaki Ichigo.” 

“Nakahara Chuuya.” Well, at least he’d gotten a name easily enough. He could stop calling him “the short asshole” in his head now. 

“Alright, the deal is,” Chuuya continued. “From now on, anything going down here that you’re involved in, it goes through me.. Your normal contacts won’t give you orders - that’ll be my job. In exchange, I’ll keep you outta the big shit until you’re ready or you actively ask to get involved (which I don’t recommend by the way). I’ll also throw in a couple lessons here and there, fix some of those openings I found earlier when I pinned you.” 

“And what do you get outta this?” This shit all sounded far too good to be fucking true and Ichigo had learned a long time ago not to trust shit like that without a damn good reason. His gut was telling him that this was legit but, though he listened to it frequently, he couldn’t really afford to do that in this situation. This wanted just about him - it was also about his sisters. If he fucked up, shit could come down on their heads and that was the last thing he ever wanted. 

“I get someone competent in this area able to hold his own who I don’t want to toss out a six story window. I’ll also probably ask you to occasionally relay my orders to the groups here since you’re recognisable. Plus, if you’re under my protection, there’s no fucking way any of those small fry will come anywhere near you.” 

“So what,” Ichigo drawled. ‘I just say the name Nakahara Chuuya and they’ll go running?” 

A smirk spread accross Chuuya’s face, blue eyes flashing with mirth as he stared up at Ichigo. 

“Yeah, sounds about right. So what do you say? You in?” 

“And what happens if I don’t say yes?” He wasn’t deliberately trying to be confrontational (this time). Thankfully, Chuuya appeared to know this, his response devoid of the semi-expected hostility Ichigo had anticipated at someone questioning him. Ichigo had been expected that, had encountered it a few times actually. Some of the assholes had expected him to just go along with what they wanted him to do without making demands of his own. Yeah, they’d learned pretty damn quick that that wasn’t the way he worked. Looks like he’d found someone that actually got that he wasn’t stupid and wouldn’t just jump if some fucker told him to. 

“Then you keep doing what you’re doing, keep getting unreliable information and potentially get yourself even more in over your head then you current are.” The response was blunt and, from what he could tell, honest. Ichigo appreciated that. “I can’t say that I might not get you involved in shit but I  _ can  _ say that, if I do, I’ll at least let you know about it up front.” 

“And if I decide not to get involved in whatever it is you’re asking me to do on that occasion? I reserve the right to say no if I think it’s a bad idea.” He wasn’t properly a member of whatever organisation or gang Chuuya was a part of. This was something extra he was doing on the side to support himself and his sisters until he could get the fuck out of dodge and take them with him. He wasn’t looking to become a member of one of the gangs - he could kiss any prospects he had goodbye if he did that. 

“Fair enough,” Chuuya shrugged and Ichigo worked to keep the surprised expression off his face. “So, do we have a deal?” 

Ichigo thought about it, considered all his options before nodding his head in agreement. When he thought about it logically,what did he have to lose? On the one hand, he could keep doing what he was doing but, clearly, that wasn’t going to be sustainable if the dickbags were going to start lying to him about who he was and wasn’t dealing with for them. This guy though...there was something about him. Ichigo couldn’t put his finger on it but something was making his instincts stand up and take notice. There was also the promise of lessons. He hadn’t actually been to a dojo in...far too long. He was good but this guy was clearly better. Any training he could get would definitely be useful...and the thought of learning new ways he could flip his father out a window was also a massive fucking bonus. 

Chuuya stepped forward and Ichigo resisted the urge to tense even as the shorter redhead held out a hand. Hesitating only a moment, Ichigo reached out and took it. 

——————————

Chuuya held the younger male’s hand in a firm grip, maintaining eye contact until he let go. Ichigo stepped back, still wary but Chuuya was expecting that. It would take time for the other to trust him which, all things considered, was fair enough. 

“Now, there is the matter of payment,” he said, reaching into a pocket. HE saw Ichigo tense and barely kept from rolling his eyes. Really, there wasn’t anything for the kid to worry about. If anything, he’d need to teach him how to be a little less obvious about his tells. 

He withdrew his wallet and, opening it, counted out an amount he thought reasonable after what he’d witnessed earlier that day. He handed it over to Ichigo who, unsurprisingly, counted it. His eyes widened almost comically and Chuuya couldn’t help but smirk at him. 

“What the-“ 

“You dealt with someone bigger than you expected, did it well and didnt freak the hell out when I confronted you. You earted it.” 

“But this is-“ 

“What someone in your position should be expected to be paid. Get used to it.” 

Ichigo opened his mouth, maybe about to protest more, but quickly shut it. Good, the kid had some sense after all. 

Chuuya took out a small slip of paper from another pocket and handed it to Ichigo who took it, not quite as wary as previously but still cautiously. 

“What’s this?’ 

“My phone number,” Chuuya replied, giving into the urge to roll his eyes this time. ‘I’ll need a way to contact you, won’t I? Make sure you don’t lose it.” 

Ichigo blinked, rocking back on his heels. Clearly he hadn’t thought of that. And, really, why would he? From what Chuuya had gathered, he was used to the locals just coming to him if they had a problem they couldn’t solve themselves. He was seriously going to have to have a word with Mori about the quality of the people they were recruiting if they were turning to a fourteen-year-old to deal with their issues. Then again, thinking of himself at fourteen and how he’d dealt with the Sheep…

Deliberately pushing those memories away, Chuuya refocused on the teenager before him. Message me when you can. We’ll set up a time and place for me to kick your ass into shape.” 

This time it was Ichigo who rolled his eyes and Chuuya smirked. This kid was going to be fun; he could just tell. 

“Yeah, yeah…” Ichigo looked down at the money still clutched in his hand, more than double what he’d initially been promised in total, and pocketed it before he could reconsider accepting it. 

Deciding that, for now, he’’d leave the kid be to think things over, Chuuya gave a wave to Ichigo and began retracing his steps, heading back to his bike so he could head home. He’d managed to do what he’d intended and now it was time to return to Yokohama. 

Originally, he’d only come to Karakura because there had been some...mixed reports...on the effectiveness of some of the local leaders of their smaller affiliates. Generally they didn’t venture too far outside of Yokohama but, considering how close Karakura was to Yokohama, it was inevitable that they maintain at least a small foothold to ensure that certain other factions didn’t get too close to their main territory. 

It was as he was scoping out things that he’d overheard the former leader of a larger local cell bragging about getting their “errand boy” to take care of the interlopers for him. Now, Chuuya was a curious person by nature and this particular person was known to be a bit of an ass so Chuuya felt no guilt whatsoever in scaring the shit out of him to get information on this so called “errand boy and why exactly the guy was sending him rather than dealing with it himself.

To say he was far from impressed when he realised they were using a  _ fourteen-year-old _ to handle the situation would be an understatement. He’d managed to  _ convince _ him to provide all the information he had on one Kurosaki Ichigo, including when and where the teen would likely be.

From what the guy had said, Chuuya wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting. He was, therefore, rather surprised to show up to see a tall teenager with hair just as bright, if not more so, than his own, easily handing the rival gang their asses on a silver fucking platter. The fight couldn’t have lasted more than three, four minutes tops if that. The kid was  _ good  _ and Chuuya couldnt’ help but notice a few similarities to how he’d been at that age. 

The kid had a smart mouth on him, that was for sure. He was also not afraid to get in close and personal with his opponents. This kid pearly had a lot of experience fighting hand to hand and was very good at taking advantage of said experience.

The question was, therefore, where it had come from since, by all accounts, this was just a regular school kid. Then again, if this kid was ‘regular’ anything, Chuuya would eat his fucking hat.

From what he’d gathered, Kurosaki Ichigo was just some kid that had ended up doing a few favours for the locals by sheer accident and just never stopped. He’d wanted to talk to the kid himself though, especially considering what the shithead had said about these not being small fry like the kid was made to believe. 

Right now the kid was on the fringes, involved but keeping a decent distance from getting his hands too bloody. That would be out the window fairly fucking quickly if the Yakuza cell these assholes were connected with got word of who exactly it was that had taken out their men...a very real possibility if the kid kept this up. 

After the kid left them in the alley, licking their wounds, Chuuya acted. Jumping down from his vantage point on a nearby roof, slowing his descent with barely a thought, he got to work. 

Not two minutes later he was following Ichigo as the boy made his way towards where, he assumed, he was going to meet his contact. Chuuya couldn’t have that. They needed to talk. 

The talk had been...interesting to say the least. He hadn’t quite been expecting the kick when Ichigo had rounded the corner but he’d been impressed nonetheless. He’d caught it of course, sweeping Ichigo’s legs out from under him but the taller male had kept going, moving quickly and showing Chuuya that, yeah, he was definitely good. It was just a shame for him that Chuuya was better. 

The conversation afterwards had been...enlightening to say the least. There was a lot that wasn't said but that almost told Chuuya more than what was...something he’d learned thanks to a certain ex-partner. 

Ichigo was like a cornered cat at first, ready to lash out at the slightest provocation and not trusting Chuuya as far as e could throw him. Chuuya knew how to handle this though - do the exact fucking opposite of what Dazai would do. 

Fuck but the kid reminded him way too much of how he’d been in his early days of being part of the Sheep - getting involved in shit he probably shouldn’t have been for a kid his age (not that he’d ever really considered himself a kid with all the crap he’d had to deal with). When the kid had mentioned doing it for the money, Chuuuya had been disappointed, ready to write this off as not his issue but then Ichigo had mentioned his sisters and all the pieces fell into place. Loyalty; he could practically smell it on him. That, Chuuya could understand.

The offer had been made impulsively but he wasn’t about to regret it. The kid had some serious potential and Chuuya was determined that, if this kid was goign to get himself involved with gangs, the mafia and all that shit, he was going to be fully fucking aware of exactly what it was he was doing. If things had continued, the kid was in for a backstabbing of epic proportions and, having been through that himself, Chuuya wasn’t exactly eager to see it happen to someone who was reminding him so much of himself at that age. 

There was more to it of course. There was soemthing about the kid that told Chuuya that he might be an ability user. Oh there was nothing obvious but Chuuya’s instincts were highly trained from his years in the Sheep and the port Mafia and they were practically screaming at him that this kid would be a fucking powerhouse if he was trained right. 

That wasn’t to say Chuuya wanted an apprentice or some shit like that. The memories of what Dazai had been like with Akutagawa were not exactly pleasant ones (even if Chuuya knew he’d not be that shitty a person in similar circumstances). Still, there was definitely something there and he’d probably regret it if he just walked away. 

The fact that he now had someone who was actually semi-competent as a contact in Karakura was a bonus. He was definitely going to go back and take care of the moron who had instigated this entire mess and put someone not shit in his place. Ichigo was out but there had to be someone here who was at least marginally competent. Fuck, he’d need to do that before he headed home or he’d have to deal with it later. Might as well do it now and get it the hell over with. 

Sighing to himself and lamenting that he wouldn't get home until later than he’d prefer, Chuuya went to meet the former gang leader to  _ discuss _ his replacement. 

—————————

Things were...interesting for quite a while after that. Ichigo wasn’t sure what to make of Chuuya and Chuuya was finding his footing, mentoring someone one-to-one without technically being a mentor. 

Ichigo’s skills grew and, as they did, so did his trust in Chuuya. 

Chuuya had him do the occasional job for the Port Mafia (and fuck had  _ that  _ been an interesting conversation. Ichigo had known Chuuya was a part of a bigger organisation but not  _ that  _ big.) and, in exchange, he paid Ichigo a hell of a lot more than his old contact ever did. Ichigo hadn’t seen the guy since that day but he had a feeling that he really didn’t want to know so made it a point not to ask. The guy had put his sisters in danger - whatever happened, he likely had it coming. 

Ichigo appreciated that Chuuya seemed to respect his limits. Ichigo had turned down a job or two because, quite frankly, he didn’t think he wanted to get involved in what they were doing. Chuuya had listened to his reasoning, nodded and hadn’t held it against him (though he ad made it a point to tell Ichigo that, the older he got and the more experience he had, the less likely it was he’d be able to say no to those types of jobs). Chuuuya might be alright with him saying no but others...wouldn’t be quite so understanding). 

Chuuya had also made a point of not drawing Mori’s attention to Ichigo as much as was feasible. There was no doubt in Chuuya’s mind that Mori was aware of Ichigo’s existence but there was little that could be done about that. So far, the boss hadn’t asked to see Chuuya’s protege (sort of protege - neither of them were willing to put any kind of label on whatever this was) but Chuuya had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before that changed. 

It had been nearly a year since this whole thing had started and Chuuya was legitimately happy with Ichigo’s progress. They’d become pretty comfortable around each other, Ichigo gradually opening up little by little and Chuuya relaxing his guard ever so slightly around the tall teen. 

Ichigo had once joked that it was pleasant to have an adult around who he didn’t mind trying to kick him in the head. That had lead to an... _ unpleasant _ conversation but it was one that Ichigo had eventually won...for now. He got the feeling that, if he said the word, Chuuya would have  _ words  _ with Goat Face.In retrospect, it had probably been that conversation taht turned their relationship from student/teacher to something a bit more familial.

...Did it make Ichigo a bad person for enjoying the thought? Probably. Did he care? Nope. He wasn’t going to let it happen if he could help it but the thought was nice. Hell, the thought that there was an adult who might be willing to call Goat Face out on his shit...he didn’t need it but it felt nice all the same. 

It had been about six months before Ichigo found out about Chuuya’s ability and ability users in general. Hard to deny it when your sort-of-older-brother-figure (and really,that was such a novel concept that Ichigo wasn’t entirely sure he was processing it despite how  _ normal _ it had felt - which had required another round of not-quite processing) was  _ walking on the ceiling like it was the goddamn floor!  _ Chuuya had, of cours,e neglected to mention that he was the host to a certain god of destruction. This had lead to Ichigo, in a round-about way, admitting to being able to see ghosts. Chuuya was initially sceptical but, when he considered that he had a literal  _ god _ inside him...why wouldn’t ghosts exist?

Ichigo was fifteen now and, all things considered, his life was going far better than he could’ve thought it would a year ago. 

...until someone even shorter than Chuuya literally stepped through his wall and everything went downhill from there.

Damn Shinigami...

—————————

Ichigo had been acting weird for weeks now and Chuuya was at the end of his rope. There was something wrong and, for whatever reason, the teenager was actively trying to keep Chuuya out of it. 

Chuuya had given him his space, not wanting to push when, whatever this was, it was clearly something that was important to Ichigo...important enough that he didn’t trust Chuuya with it. 

No, there was something else going on and Chuuya was going to get to the bottom of it. 

He’d also been feeling...off recently. He hadn’t had much of a chance to venture to Karakura due to a rise in activity in Yokohama. IT was frustrating but he’d still thankfully managed to keep up with Ichigo’s training. That feeling seemed to grow, however, whenever he stepped foot in Karakura Town.

Ichigo had gone completely silent a few days ago and, unfortunately, Chuuya hadn’t been able to come check in on him.  _ That  _ was going to change right the fuck now. 

A few months ago, while on a job, Ichigo’s phone.had been smashed to pieces. Chuuya had argued that, since it was because he was running an errand for him, he would cover the costs. Ichigo had protested but, in the end, acquiesced because Chuuya had learned to out-stubborn  _ Dazai _ if he really fucking needed to so he could damn well out-stubborn a fifteen-year-old.

This new phone had included an updated GPS which Chuuya had access to in emergencies. Ichigo hadn’t protested too much when Chuuya had actually explained himself. Chuuya just knew that, had this been Dazai in his situation, he would’ve just installed a tracking app on the phone and never mentioned it. Yeah, fuck that. He was keeping an eye on his damn kid whether said kid liked it or not...he’d just make sure Ichigo was aware of it. So far, Ichigo’s activities in connection with Chuuya had gone relatively smoothly and Chuuya didn’t trust it. Sooner or later, something was going to go wrong and Chuuya wanted to be able to track Ichigo if s the worst happened. 

For the last few days, that signal hadn’t moved and Chuuya was going to find out what the fuck was going on. 

Riding his bike into Karakura, he made his way towards the location on iIchigo’s phone. The building he pulled up to was so obviously a front for something that, for a moment, Chuuya considered that it was a legitimate business. Shaking himself out of those thoughts and parking his bike, he dismounted and strode confidently towards the shithole. 

Entering the shop, he saw rows of sweets and, behind a counter, a large man who was eyeing him without being too conspicuous. 

“How can I help you?” The man aske, tone perfectly polite. Chuuya bared his teeth. 

“You can tell me where the hell Ichigo is. I know he’s here.” 

To his credit, the guy didn’t blink at Chuuya’s tone. 

“And why would you be looking for him...if he were here of course.” 

Chuuya fought the urge to lunge over the counter and throttle the man. Instead, he kept his cool and met the other’s gaze with his own, daring him to back down. 

“Because that kid attracts trouble like a magnet attracts metal and if you’ve hurt him, you’ll be dealing with  _ me _ and you  _ really _ don’t want that.” 

The guy remained unphased and Chuuya felt his eyes narrow. About to continue, he paused when he felt a flicker of...something...from nearby. Concentrating, he tried to pinpoint that feeling. It was familiar yet not at the same time. 

Not letting himself think about the what, why or how of it, Chuuya acted. 

Before the man behind the counter could react, Chuuya was moving, pushing gravity downwards and effectively freezing him in place for long enough that Chuuya could slip past and into the building beyond. He moved quickly, letting this sense (whatever it was) guide him. He turned a corner and came to a halt as he saw two small figures, a boy and a girl, who froze when they saw him. They were standing by a trap door, clearly having just climbed out of it and Chuuya just  _ knew _ that that was where Ichigo was. 

Not giving himself any more time to think, Chuuya leapt and darted through the hole in the floor, not letting himself react to the sudden presence of a rock floor far too far away and a bright, bright blue sky above his head. He’d lived in Yokohama for years - he’d seen weirder. 

Landing with a  _ boom _ , a cloud of dust rose around him, obscuring his view of whatever the hell he’d just jumped into. It didn’t matter though - he already new he’d grabbed their attention. 

As the smoke cleared, two figures were revealed. 

The first was Ichigo, wearing a more traditional outfit than Chuuya had ever seen him wearing, holding the largest sword Chuuya had ever seen. Strike that - it was more like a meat cleaver than an actual sword and, distantly, he wondered how exactly Ichigo was holding it when he couldn’t use gravity to make something that size and presumable lighter. 

His eyes then trailed to the figure standing near his pseudo-little brother and his eyes narrowed. He was immediately and irrevocably reminded of Dazai and he wasn’t about to let someone like that around Ichigo if he could help it. 

“Well...this is a surprise,” the green-glad figure drawled, unfolding a fan and holding it before his face, further obscuring his features as his eyes were shadowed by a striped hat. “May I ask why you felt the need to drop by so suddenly?” 

Chuuya bared his teeth in a snarl. 

“I’m here to see what the fuck my little brother got himself into this time. Care to explain?”

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little spark of insanity! 
> 
> Kudos are deeply appreciated, comments squealed over and bookmarks poked with a stick in disbelief.


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